Ascension
by dudeguyone
Summary: Shepard is at his lowest point. Lost and betrayed, it will take people of his own legendary status to save him. Heroes from other stories will be responsible for giving Shepard the credit for his struggle that his creators didn't. PLEASE REVIEW


A/N: Alright, for right now, this is just a oneshot, but I may continue with it if people like it. Please give me feedback so that I know what to do with this. Thanks for reading!

The desolate plains spread out before him, vast and devoid of life. Devoid of anything. There was no visible source of light, no sun, nor sky to hold it, but he could still see clearly. But there was nothing to see. All around him, the void stretched endlessly beyond his vision. He didn't feel warm or cold. Everything felt completely neutral. He could feel no air against his skin, no movement at all. This place was completely motionless and sterilized. There was nothing he could do.

So Shepard continued walking. He didn't know how long he had been on the move now. It could have been a few minutes, or several days, for all he knew. He kept traveling, hoping to find something, _anything_, that would stand out in this featureless world. He felt tired. Exhausted, actually. But he couldn't stop. He wasn't sure why, but he had to keep going. Stopping felt like he would be giving up. Shepard had given up once before; immediately prior to this situation, in fact. Was that why he was here? Maybe this was what being dead felt like.

Shepard tried to remember, tried to think back. The last thing he remembered was a flash of red light that took up his entire view, and then...nothing. He was here, walking. Remembering that flash, he thought of the burden he had carried, the responsibility he had taken up. In the end, everything he had ever fought for had come down to one choice, given to him by a strange being who claimed to be the master of the Reapers. So many questions still burned through Shepard's mind: Why did the Reapers follow the Catalyst? He didn't directly control them, that was for certain; Leviathan proved that much. Who created the Reapers? Who created the Catalyst? Who first started construction of the Crucible?

Shepard hung his head. It seemed he would not be getting the answers to these questions now. Sadness coursed through him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, as if some higher power had looked at his achievements, and had allowed him to come so close to victory, to simply abandon him in his most desperate hour. He felt that all he had fought for meant nothing. He would never see what had become of the galaxy; more importantly, he would never see what became of his friends.

At this thought, a single tear slid down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, trying to keep his emotions in check. He kept walking, doing his best to remain under control. Garrus flashed through his head, sitting at a bar, toasting the air, and tilting a drink back. Shepard's pace slowed. Wrex came next, holding a tiny baby krogan in his lap, telling the child stories of their exploits together. Shepard stopped walking completely. Tali, standing in the entryway of a half-finished house, overlooking a glistening sea, leaning against the door frame and staring off into the sunset. Shepard fell to his knees.

He couldn't help himself. The tears streaked down his face, and his body heaved as he silently cried. He didn't understand. What had he done to deserve this? He was so lost, with no purpose here. What would happen to him? Would he just keep on walking, indefinitely? Would he die eventually? Was he already dead? He stared at the blank, featureless ground below him, watching as his tears dripped down into tiny puddles. He closed his eyes. He just wanted to sleep. Just to sleep and never wake up...

"John." His eyes flew open, and his heart began pounding in his chest. He looked up, towards where the voice had come from. Where before there had been nothing but a blank canvas, a bright light now shone towards him. Something was in front of him, but he couldn't see it properly. His eyes were still adjusting to the light. Suddenly, the thing moved, and out toward him came a hand, sheathed in an olive-colored gauntlet. Without really thinking, he reached out with his own hand, and grasped the other one firmly.

He felt himself pulled up off the ground, and came to his feet. Now, he could see this new entity clearly: a massive figure, clad in sage-green armor, his face covered by a golden visor. Shepard stared for a moment before voicing a question, "Who are you?"  
The man looked at him a moment, then answered, "I am what your are, John. I am an icon. I am a hero. " Shepard took in his answer, trying to make sense of things. "Where are we?"  
"This is nowhere. It is nothing. Some people have referred to it as 'Purgatory.' Fitting, I think. But, you don't belong here, John."  
"Then where do I belong?" The armored man turned gesturing towards the light behind him, which began to grow brighter and more intense. "Follow me." The man said, walking off towards the light. Shepard followed, finding that he did not have to shield his eyes from it, depite it's growing intensity.

As they approached, the light began to expand, taking up more and more of Shepard's vision. Soon it was all he could see, and before he knew it, eveything was gone.

* * *

Shepard opened his eyes. The transition had felt both instantaneous and ancient at the same time. He stepped after the man, noticing his new surroundings. He stopped, shocked at the view. Rolling green hills, a clear blue sky with a warm sun shining down, trees dotting the area here and there, and a small lake a ways off. The contrast between this environment and his last one kept him immobile for a minute or so before the green man doubled back for him. "Come on, John." He said, gesturing for Shepard to follow him. Shepard did so, following the man behind one of the hills to a small building he had not noticed before.

Shepard watched as his new companion opened the door, and held it open for him. Shepard walked inside, and was, again, stopped in sheer surprise. Inside the simple wooden building, the place was packed. People and creatures of all sorts sat around, talking, drinking, and laughing. Behind him, his rescuer closed the door and walked ahead of him. As people noticed the two, they became silent, devoting all of their attention to the newcomers. Eventually, the entire place had quieted down.

A short, slightly portly man walked up to them. He had a red shirt, blue overalls, a red cap, and a bushy mustache. "Commander John Shepard. Welcome." He started in a thick Italian accent. "We have been waiting a long time for you." Now Shepard was even more confused.  
"You have? What do you mean? Who are you all?" The Italian man smiled at him.  
"We are heroes. We have each existed in a world all our own, and have each endured many hardships in our worlds, and in the end came out victorious. Stories will be told for ages about each of our individual exploits. We have all become legends to those that knew of us. Commander, you have become one of those legends. Even if the higher powers refuse to reward your struggle and sacrifice, we will."

"You are a hero to those that knew you, and an enduring legend to those that knew of you. You have earned your place among the elite, whereas a lesser man would simply be dead." With that, the man began clapping. Soon, others began to join in, until the entire room was filled with applause for the Commander. Shepard felt strange. Embarrased. But also accepted. He stepped forwards, and into the presence of his fellow heroes, securing his place as a legend forever.


End file.
